


Our Past, Present, and Future

by MonPetitTresor



Series: Sam is Sigyn [2]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Dreams, F/M, Healing, Hurt Sam, M/M, Memories, Past Lives, Recovery, Reincarnation, The Trials
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-05
Updated: 2017-05-05
Packaged: 2018-10-28 10:16:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 16,116
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10829220
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MonPetitTresor/pseuds/MonPetitTresor
Summary: The boys try and find Gabriel, only for him to find them.





	1. Chapter 1

It turned out finding Gabriel wasn’t exactly as easy as they’d hoped. With everything that was going on in their lives, straight up trying to summon an archangel wasn’t exactly the smartest of plans. And summoning Loki was mostly listed in books as something ‘not to do’. Quite a few of the books warned the reader away from trying to contact the demigod. He was known for being fickle and capricious. Requests presented to him were apparently often answered, though not in the way the supplicant had anticipated. Honestly, that sounded _exactly_ like the Loki that Sam knew – both in his own life and through his dreams.

“The last we knew, he _died_ , Dean.” Sam felt compelled to point out one afternoon, about a week after he’d first told Dean everything. They were sitting together at the library table in the bunker with books spread out between them on the table top. Sam pushed a hand through his hair and sat back in his chair. “Even if we find a ritual to summon him, what good is it going to do if he’s dead?”

Dean didn’t look the least bit perturbed by that. “Why don’t try this first before you start bitching about how it’s not gonna work?”

“I just don’t think we should get our hopes up. Either Gabriel’s dead, and this is going to do nothing, or he’s been alive this entire time and has been in hiding.” If that were the case, Sam wasn’t sure he wanted to know.

“Well, I guess we’ll find out, huh?”

The way Dean said that made it clear that this was going to happen whether Sam liked it or not. It was how Dean always got when he felt there was a threat against Sam. He’d do what he felt was necessary to make sure his brother was taken care of with or without Sam’s approval. This ritual was going to happen. They were going to summon Gabriel.

Of course, once they finally got the ritual together, that was when everything had to start going crazy.

They found the trials that would close the gates of Hell and Dean was suddenly on a mission to do it or die trying. There was no way Sam could think about his own problems when he was so busy trying to find a way to stop Dean from doing this, or to make him safer at least. Because Sam was terrified that Dean would go into these trials and try to do them without a care in the world for if he survived or not. He didn’t actively want to die, Sam knew. He just – he didn’t see a future for himself. Dean was a blind idiot who couldn’t see the life he could have waiting for him if he stopped being a coward and reached out for it. The hunter was just as blind as always when it came to his angel. So much so that Sam was tempted to knock both their heads together.

Instead, he did the only thing he could do. When he and Dean were hunting the hellhound that was part of the first trial, Sam found an opportunity to do what needed to be done and he completed the first trial on his own.

It once more put Sam in the hot seat. Something he knew he should’ve hated, and it was obvious that Dean _did_ hate, but Sam honestly believed it was better this way. Whereas Dean would’ve done what he had to without care to himself, Sam actively wanted to live. He wanted to stay here in this new home he was setting up with his brother. He wanted to stick around long enough to see if Dean and Castiel ever managed to pull their heads out of their asses and see what was right in front of them. And he wanted to be here to solve the puzzle that was his dreams. None of that could happen if he died.

Though, as the trials progressed, it seemed like he wasn’t going to get much of a choice.

All of his worries about his dreams took a backseat to his worries about his life. The dreams themselves became a sort of comfort. During the day Sam felt horrible. These trials were breaking his body down, tearing it apart from the inside out in ways that Castiel said he wasn’t capable of healing, and it left Sam feeling sick and weak though still determined to fight. At night, Sam was able to escape to a different world, a different life. One that was a whole lot happier.

As the months passed by, Sam kept quiet about his dreams and he assumed that Dean forgot about them as well. He kept documenting them but stopped trying to find a way to track Gabriel. All of his time was spent researching these trials and their cases and trying to keep himself moving.

The dreams were a wonderful, amazing escape from a terrifying life. In them, Sam got to experience it all as Sigyn and Loki moved through the last of their courtship and into marriage, and then into the start of their life together. The day after he dreamed of their wedding night, he woke up flushed, embarrassed, and hornier than he could remember being, yet with more satisfaction in his boneless body than he’d known was possible to feel. A long shower hadn’t helped all that much. Sam still couldn’t help the way he blushed when Dean asked him how he was doing later.

There were some dreams of times that Sam knew probably hadn’t made a ton of sense to Sigyn. Only the space of time, and an understanding of who Loki truly was, let Sam understand them.

_The air was cool as she pulled herself up out of their bed. The spot where he’d lain was empty; long gone cold. That meant that he’d been up for a while now. She stifled a sigh and reached for the first bit of cloth she could find. When she saw it was his tunic, she smiled to herself and pulled it on. The material was soft, as he always liked things to be, and hung loosely on her with just enough length to cover what was important. Here, where no one could see them, she often liked to slip into what was his._

_He sensed her coming; he always did. When she stepped up behind him and slipped her arms around his shoulders he didn’t even flinch. One hand came up to curl over her arm as she bent, her chin coming to rest on his shoulder. “I didn’t mean to wake you.”_

_“You didn’t.” A smile curved her lips. Leaning in, she pressed her cheek in against his_

_She could feel as Loki smiled. His head turned in as well and rubbed their cheeks together, the scruff he had taken to keeping lately making her skin tingle._

_For a long moment neither one of them said anything. She stood there behind him and just enjoyed being pressed up against him. This wasn’t the first night and it wouldn’t be the last that she found him staring off at the sky. Every time he did, there was an air of wistfulness to him, and an aura of grief that made her want to weep. Though she didn’t know what he had lost, she knew it was big and it never went away. Nothing that she said or did could make it go away completely. Some days were better than others – some days he made it through without a single shadow appearing in those beautiful eyes. Other days she could predict these late nights coming._

_No matter how often it happened, however, she had vowed to always be there for him. Maybe she couldn’t take the pain away but she could make sure he didn’t have to bear it all alone._

_A gust of wind blew and she couldn’t keep the shiver at bay at the chill against her bare flesh. Loki felt it, of course, and reacted immediately. The hand he had on her arm tugged on her until she came around to the front of him. It warmed her heart to watch as his arms opened for her as soon as she was within reach. They made room for her like she belonged here, like this space against him was made just for her, and she melted down into it. Here was home for her. Here was everything she could ever want._

_His arms closed around her and she felt his surprise more than saw it, her face pressing in against his neck. “By all that’s…Sig, it’s freezing out here!” Somehow he pulled her in impossibly closer and one of his hands rubbed over the skin of her thigh in an effort to warm it. “You should’ve grabbed a blanket at least. Or just called for me. I would’ve come to you.”_

_“A little cold won’t kill me.” Rubbing her nose against his neck, she smiled. There was no way she could’ve stayed inside and waited for him. Not when she knew just how long he could sit out here and brood and mourn for something she didn’t dare ask him about. Something she knew grieved him in ways no one else would guess at let alone ever catch a glimpse of. The fact that he let her see, that he allowed her to witness him so vulnerable, was a gift she never took lightly. But now was not the time for that grief. Now that she’d pulled him out of his head, it was time to make sure that the grief was forgotten, at least for a little while longer. With that in mind, she brought her arms up and twined them around his neck, letting her body twist until their chests were pressed together. Then she tilted her head up just enough to be able to meet those gorgeous amber eyes and offer him her best smile. “Why don’t you take me inside and warm me up, husband?”_

_The heat that leapt into his eyes hadn’t dulled one bit since they day they’d first met. One corner of his mouth quirked up with a grin that carried a deviousness she knew well. Almost all signs of grief were gone from his face. “You little vixen.” He murmured fondly._

_Her grin grew. “You like it.”_

_Loki’s laughter shook his body and warmed her heart. Then suddenly the world was moving and she gripped his neck tight, holding on when he scooped her up into his arms._

_Their laughter mixed together in the cool night air as Loki carried her inside to a place where none of that grief would be able to intrude. A place that belonged to just them._

Sam woke from that dream with an aching in his heart and arms that felt way too empty. In his dreams, Sigyn hadn’t known what was making her Loki grieve so much, only that it hurt him and she wanted to be able to help somehow. Sam, with his knowledge of Gabriel, knew that it had been the archangel out there grieving for a family he’d had to leave behind. One that he’d been so sure he’d lost. Sam knew that feeling, to a small extent. Oh, it was nothing like what Gabriel was feeling, he knew. But he knew what it was like to leave home and think you couldn’t ever go back. To make yourself into someone new because you couldn’t be the person you’d been anymore. And he knew what it was like to love someone and only be able to tell them just half of who you were.

It was right before the last trial when Sam reached another milestone in his dreams. He was on his way to the church with Dean, ready to try and cure a demon, to cure the king of Hell, and the familiar vibrations of the Impala lulled Sam down into sleep.

_She was waiting excitedly in the kitchen for him when he finally came home. For weeks now while Loki was off on a mission with his brother, this news had been burning inside of her heart and she was just about dying with the need to go and tell him. To share this joy with the most important person in her life. Because of that eagerness, she couldn’t wait when she heard his voice outside. She couldn’t stop herself from pulling open the door as soon as she heard her husband’s voice._

_Thor was with him, though she didn’t have eyes for him. Only absently did she take note of his presence. All her focus was on the beautiful man who lit up at the sight of her. Loki’s eyes shone bright and his grin was wide and true. “Sig!”_

_Her laughter echoed in the air around them as she hefted her skirts and raced across the grass. Loki lifted his arms the minute she was close and he easily caught her up against him. They spun in a circle that made her laugh before she was set on her feet and caught up in a kiss that was almost too heated to indulge in with company present. When they pulled apart, her heart was pounding and her breath caught in her chest, yet she couldn’t stop smiling. It felt so perfect to be here in the circle of his arms. Perfect to be able to stare up into those amber eyes and see how the magic in them shifted and swirled. She watched his face, watched as he looked down at her and noticed, as she’d known he would, that something was different._

_Briefly his arms tightened. Then she saw it hit – saw how his eyes went wide with shock and, dare she hope, joy. “Sig?”_

_A smile curved her lips. Twisting her fingers to play with his long hair, she let her smile grow. “Welcome home… Papa.”_

_The way his eyes lit with joy was something that she knew she’d never forget. His arms cradled her and they were spinning once more, much gentler this time, and her laughter mixed with his and Thor’s, echoing around them._

It was that memory that Sam carried with him as he walked into the church that he never expected to walk out of again.


	2. Chapter 2

What happened at the end of that Trial was something Sam would never fully remember. The memories felt a bit hazy and he had a feeling they always would be. He knew that Dean came in and saved him, that they argued and that Dean stopped him from finishing, and he remembered the feeling of leaning against the Impala and looking up at the sky as it seemed like every star in the Heavens were falling, but nothing was clear after that until he came to in his bed, back at the bunker.

The very first thing Sam saw when he opened his eyes was the very exhausted, and very much alive, face of _Gabriel_.

There was one brief moment where Sam wondered if maybe he was asleep, if he was having another one of his dreams, and then the archangel gave a low murmur of his name. “Sam.” Just that, nothing more, a quiet confirmation that he was here and alive, and it was enough to let Sam know that he wasn’t dreaming. He was awake and Gabriel was really here.

Shock had Sam’s eyes going wide. Often, he’d wondered what would happen when he saw Gabriel again after all these dreams had started. He’d wondered who he would see – Gabriel, or Loki? Well, he had that answer now. As Sam looked up at him, he saw _both_. The Loki that Sigyn had known, and the trickster/archangel that Sam knew. They were both there, both the same person, and Sam was stunned by the wave of emotions that rose up inside of him. Emotions that didn’t feel like just his own. There was the confusion and excitement and interest that he’d always felt around Gabriel, and there was this overwhelming wave of absolute love and joy that he’d only ever felt inside his dreams.

If Sam had been able to move, he was sure he would’ve embarrassed himself by launching up at Gabriel. As it was, all he could manage was a stuttered “G-Gabriel.”

In response, Gabriel gave a tired smile. “Welcome back, Sambo.”

The exhaustion in that smile was easy for Sam to read, though he thought absently that he might not have noticed it the last time they’d seen each other. He could see it now, though. See the exhaustion in his smile, the slight darkness in his eyes, the heavy way he held himself. Gabriel was tired, he was upset, and he was _hurt_. More than anything in the world Sam wanted to take hold of him and find out what was wrong. It didn’t matter that his own body ached, or that he was sure something was really wrong right now. After all, the last thing he remembered was stopping the Trial and the angels falling. But all of those things paled against the worry he felt for the being in front of him.

There wasn’t any real time for Sam and Gabriel to say or do anything, though. Someone else shouldered their way into view.

“Sammy!”

Dean pushed forward with all his usual friendless and pretty much shoved Gabriel out of his way so he could reach in and cup a hand over Sam’s face, holding him there for the same inspection that Dean always gave any time that Sam was hurt. The gesture was so familiar it helped Sam to ground himself. Whatever else was going on, this was the same. This, he could make sense of, even if everything else inside of him felt like a giant, jumbled mess. Dean was always a rock for him. One that gave him the strength to tilt his head and look at Gabriel, who was seated at the foot of the bed still looking so tired, and then back to Dean. “What’s going on?”

“You’re an idiot.” Gabriel said cheerfully. If Sam hadn’t learned to listen better, if he hadn’t seen so many different sides of Loki in his dreams, he might not have heard the worry or the tiredness that was underneath those words. He highly doubted Dean heard it. Gabriel put on a good show, making his voice both cheerful and mocking. Typical for him. “You bozos tried to yet again give yourselves up for something else, and I had to step in and save you. Again.” He let half his mouth quirk up into a smirk that held way too much pain in it for Sam to be comfortable. “Least it didn’t involve dying this time.”

“You actually died?” Sam blurted out before he could stop himself. “Then how… how’re you here?” The last part of his words came out as a croak, his throat too dry and sore to handle that many words.

Dean was moving instantly to grab a cup of water from a table beside the bed – and Sam took notice for the first time, realizing that he was somehow in his bed in the bunker – while Gabriel reached out to pat a hand on Sam’s leg. “Less talking, bucko. I did what I could, but there’s a lot of damage in there and I don’t have all my juice right yet. Even if I did, it’d take a few sessions to fix all that’s going on in there. You’re gonna be benched from hunting for a while, kiddo.”

“Here, Sammy.” Dean brought the cup over to him, though he didn’t hand it over. He cupped one hand behind Sam’s head and used the other to hold the cup up to his lips. It was sort of embarrassing with Gabriel sitting right there watching them. Sam needed the water, though. He also wasn’t willing to let Gabriel leave until he gave them some answers. Half of Sam wanted nothing more than to know what was going on. The other half of him, a part that had grown bigger and bigger with each passing dream, wanted to reach out and curl his fingers around Gabriel’s hand. Hold on until the world started to make a little sense.

The last memory Sam had of Gabriel, of Loki, was of telling him that they were going to have a child. The last time Sam had seen those eyes looking at him, they’d been filled with so much joy. A joy that was matched by the one in Sam’s heart. Thinking of it brought back that sensation, the joy and the longing for what was to come. Unconsciously, one of Sam’s hands slid up the blankets to press lightly over his stomach. He didn’t realize that he’d done it until both Dean and Gabriel looked down with almost identical expressions of worry. “You all right, Sammy?” Dean asked.

Clearing his throat, Sam nodded his head. “Yeah. Yeah, I’m fine.” He made himself drop his hand away from his stomach no matter how much he wanted to keep it there. _That was the dreams. This is reality. I’m not – I’m not there. I’m not pregnant. Quit thinking about that and focus on this!_ The sharp reminder helped to bring him back on track, though it did nothing to chase away the feelings inside of him. He tried to at least keep it out of his voice as he spoke again. “I’d like to know what’s going on, though. The last thing I remember is the, well…”

“The angels falling.” Gabriel said. His voice had gone just a bit flat and his expression was now shuttered. He pulled his legs up onto the bed and crossed them, tucking his feet underneath himself. Then he leaned his elbows onto his knees and focused on Sam, apparently choosing to ignore Dean. Sam tried not to enjoy that, or to wonder about why. “That’s partially why I’m here, actually. Before I went to save you idiots from big bro, I took a few pieces of my grace and tied them off. I put the biggest piece upstairs, cause I figured that was the last place anyone would look for me. Only, when that spell kicked all the angels out of Heaven, that piece of me was still technically labeled ‘angel’ and it shot down as well and went hunting for the bits left in my vessel. Thanks for burying that, by the way.” Here he flashed a grin at Sam that seemed a bit more real. “I get the feeling that was you.”

Ignoring the way Dean looked at him, Sam shrugged one shoulder, trying not to blush. “I wasn’t going to just leave you there.”

Gabriel reached out and patted his leg. “And I appreciate it, handsome.”

“Can we get back to the story here?” Dean asked, cutting in between the two. He was standing over them, arms crossed over his chest and a glare on his face.

Rolling his eyes, Gabriel drew his hand back from Sam. “Calm down, turbo. I’m getting there.” With another roll of his eyes, he brought his focus back to Sam once more, still directing most of the story at him. “Those two bits of me were enough to actually bring back _me_ , and once I woke up I was able to grab a few more bits. Most of them are scattered around the universe after my grace technically exploded. They’re drifting back to me, but it’ll take time. I was trying to figure out how long had passed and what was going on when I heard big bro over there let out an open prayer on angel airwaves for someone to come and save your ass. I had just enough juice to fly over there before anyone else could get there. We gathered you up, did enough healing to get you here, and then your brother drove us over. That was, oh, three days ago?”

“Three days ago?” Surprise had Sam’s eyebrows shooting up. He’d been here for three days now?

“Yep.” Gabriel said, popping the ‘p’ at the end. “Like I said, it’s gonna take time for me to be at full power. We’re healing you in stages, kiddo.”

The question of ‘why’ he was here healing him was one that hung between them. Both Winchesters were thinking it, yet neither one wanted to voice it. Not just out of fear of the answers, but fear that asking would get that help taken away. Sam had thousands of questions that he wanted to ask Gabriel and no idea how to say any of them. Why was he here helping them? Why did he care? Not only was he here, healing Sam, but the last time the Winchesters had seen him he’d given his life to let them escape and then given them a plan on how to stop the apocalypse. Why on earth did he care so much?

Other questions cropped up as well. Like what was happening with the angels falling, and where was Castiel? Was everyone okay?

He didn’t realize that his eyes were starting to drift closed against. Not until he felt Dean’s hand smooth his hair back and then tuck the blankets around him. “Why’s he sleeping again? He just woke up.” Dean asked in a low voice full of worry.

Gabriel’s weight shifted near Sam’s feet. It felt like he was settling in a bit more, getting comfortable, though Sam didn’t bother trying to open his eyes and look. “You’re lucky he was as coherent as he was, Deano. These trials ripped him apart inside.” His tone sharpened then into something that was dangerous enough that Sam tried to open his eyes, to gather the energy to wake himself up a little more, only to find that he was just too tired. “Didn’t you bozos stop to think about what might happen to a kid with demon blood in him trying to do the trials to shut the gates of hell? Nothing about that screamed ‘bad idea’ to you?”

Oh. Sam hadn’t thought about that. He hadn’t thought about that at all.

“You think I wanted him to do this?” Dean snapped, his voice a low hiss. “He wasn’t supposed to! The little shit just completed the first trial before I could stop him. There wasn’t a damn thing I could do after that.”

Damn right. There wasn’t any part of Sam that regretted it, either.

A soft sigh came from Gabriel and some of the tension in the air faded away. “Of course he did.” There was a short pause and then another sigh before Gabriel’s weight shifted on the bed. “Call me if he looks like he’s having trouble. I’m gonna go find my brother now.”

There was something so tired in those words. Something that suggested an exhaustion even deeper than Sam had noticed. He wanted to comment on it, to suggest that maybe Gabriel get some rest. He was surprised when he didn’t have to even try – Dean did it for him. “Make sure to find some time to crash out. You look like you need it.”

“Aw, Deano! I knew you cared!”

Dean muttered curses and Gabriel laughed his way out of the room. Only when the door shut did Dean stop his grumbling. His hand was back on Sam’s head, smoothing his hair away from his face one more time, and he heard his brother blow out a breath like he was trying to blow away his tension. “When you’re healed up enough, I’m gonna kick your ass, kid. You gotta quit dying on me.” Dean mumbled.

It was the last thing Sam heard before he drifted off to sleep.


	3. Chapter 3

The next time that Sam woke up, he was surprised to find that Gabriel was still there. All he really registered, though, was the feel of grace washing through him, those healing waves, and then peace as Sam sank back down into the darkness.

That seemed to be a common theme for the next few times that Sam woke. Once, his brother was there as well, and another time Sam swore he saw Castiel.

He had no idea how much time passed before he finally woke up for real. Though his body was still tired, it was less tender than the past few times, and his head felt mostly clear. No one else was in the room, either. That left Sam free to take his time slowly pushing himself up into a sitting position. His body protested only a little bit. Mostly, it felt like after a rough case, or a hard fight. Sore, beat up here and there, and with that kind of crappy feeling inside that usually came from a nasty chest cold, but otherwise okay. He’d definitely dealt with worse.

Sam had just settled himself back against his pillows when the door to his room opened and Dean came walking in, Castiel following behind him. Dean lit up at the sight of Sam awake and upright. “Sammy!” Grinning broadly, the older hunter strode forward and dropped down onto the bed without hesitation, one hand coming up to feel at Sam’s face, his forehead, in a gesture that had become familiar during the Trials. “Damn, man, is it good to see you awake. About time you got done with your corpse imitation.”

“It feels good to _be_ awake.” Sam said, smiling. He turned that smile up towards Castiel, who was hovering sort of awkwardly down near the foot of Sam’s bed. The awkwardness was normal enough that Sam didn’t even think anything of it. However, he did catch note of how tired Castiel looked. How, run down. Seeing it softened Sam’s voice just a little. “Hey, Cas. You look about as bad as I feel.”

Castiel furrowed his brow for a moment as he worked his way through the meaning of that. When it finally came to him, he gave a soft sigh and his expression smoothed out. “I’m well, Sam. But I’m very glad to see that you’re awake.”

Something in Castiel’s voice sounded different to Sam. It didn’t have that usual, resonance that Sam had grown used to hearing. It’d always been there, though Sam had noticed it more and more after his time downstairs. Being exposed to Lucifer and Michael’s grace for so long had left Sam a bit more sensitive to the feel of it. There was always a hint of grace to Castiel’s words. A hint of the seraph’s true voice lurking underneath. That – that was gone now.

Realizing that was enough to have Sam starting to tense. Something had happened. Something huge. Sam had been so sick at the end, he hadn’t really focused on much other than the Trials, but he knew something had been going on. And now, with the angels falling; what had it done to Castiel? Had it hurt him somehow?

“What’s going on? What happened while I was sleeping?” Sam looked back and forth between the two of them. There was something here, something huge, and he had a feeling he didn’t want to know what it was. He needed to, though. They didn’t have the luxury of hiding from things in their family no matter how hard they all stupidly tried. Somehow, it always came back to bite them in the ass. Sam looked at the exhaustion still visible on Castiel’s face and narrowed his gaze. “I remember seeing the, the angels falling. Are they… are _you_ all right, Cas?”

Sam’s concern made Castiel smile, even if only briefly. Then, with his usual disregard for tact, Castiel dropped his bombshell. “I’m human.”

Shock flashed through Sam’s body. He went completely still and stared up at his friend. “You’re _what_?”

“Metatron lied to me.” There was a flash of pain in Castiel’s words. His eyes were haunted and caught up in grief that dulled the bright blue into something deeper and darker. “The trials I was doing were not trials at all, but components of a spell that he used to eject all the angels from Heaven. The final step was my grace, and he used it to eject us all and bar the gates of Heaven to everyone.”

Horror had Sam’s eyes going wide. His mouth dropped open and he pushed up against his pillows. “ _What_?” The sharp word tore at his throat and sent Sam coughing. Only, once he started, he couldn’t seem to stop. He ended up with one arm wrapped around his stomach, lurching forward as the coughs tore out of him, making his chest feel like he was being stabbed by knives. Dean was right there, catching hold of him and propping him up with his shoulder against Sam’s forehead. One hand held him in place while the other rubbed at Sam’s back. Whatever he was saying was a lost rumble near Sam’s head. He couldn’t hear anything past his own coughing.

Cool fingers suddenly touched Sam’s head and the coughing slowed into something a bit more manageable. He was pushed back from Dean a little and a cup was thrust in front of him. Sam took it gratefully. When he looked up, he found Gabriel on the other side of the bed, watching him with a stern yet concerned look. “You know, most people who’ve been as ripped apart as you, they try and take it easy.”

“Accident.” Sam croaked out. He took a drink and let the cool water ease the pain in his throat.

Gabriel scoffed at him. “Yeah, uh-huh.” His voice was heavy with disbelief. Raising one eyebrow, he turned to look at the other two. “I told you, keep it simple if you were gonna visit. He’s barely up for company right now.”

“I don’t need anyone telling me how to visit with my brother.” Dean snapped back at him.

Closing his eyes, Sam leaned himself forward and let his forehead once more rest against Dean’s shoulder. It was his way of silencing his brother, and also, he was just really _tired_. That coughing fit had taken a whole lot out of him. Much as he wanted to continue the previous conversation, or even argue with Gabriel that he was fully capable of having company, or ask any of the thousands of questions that were in his head, he wasn’t entirely sure he had the energy to. Especially not once Dean’s hand came up to cup the back of his head. The heavy, comforting weight of it seemed to only make him even more tired. Sam’s eyes were heavy and keeping them open turned into a battle.

“He needs his rest.” Gabriel said, voice a lot softer than before. It didn’t sound as tired as the last time Sam had heard it, either.

Dean’s fingers started a nice _scritch-scratch_ in Sam’s hair that had him melting down a little into his brother and the bed. “He just woke up!”

“He is healing.” Castiel said lowly. “His body needs time to recover.”

“Give it another week, Winchester, and he should be back to normal. If all else fails, I’ll have enough grace then for a full healing.”

The cup was taken from Sam’s hand and he found himself being shifted around to once more lay down on the bed. As much as he wanted to stay awake, to try and continue this conversation, he really didn’t have a choice. He was out before he could even really think to grumble about it.

* * *

The next few times that Sam woke were a lot like that. He managed to stay awake a little longer and a little longer each time, though.

It really surprised Sam each time he woke up to see Gabriel there, or when he watched the archangel walk into the room. The fact that he was back and alive at all was stunning enough on its own. To see him here, and Dean wasn’t even trying to kill him or anything, it was amazing. Sam alternated between wanting to ask him everything and not knowing what to say at all. It seemed to amuse Gabriel to no end.

Castiel and Dean kept Sam abreast of what was going on out there. They told him about the angels falling and how they all seemed grounded, without their wings, stuck trying to find vessels. When it was just the two of them, Dean told Sam about how hard he was fighting to keep Castiel from leaving. How the seraph wanted to be out there trying to help somehow, only, every angel they came across seemed to know that this whole thing was tied to Castiel somehow and they all blamed him for it. “If it weren’t for Gabriel, I don’t know if Cas would even still be here.” Dean admitted once. It would seem that the archangel was doing his best to keep Castiel safely in the bunker.

So far they’d all avoided talking about the one topic that had sent them seeking a way to summon Gabriel in the first place. He’d saved them the need to by coming to them, yet no matter how many times Sam ended up sitting alone with the archangel in his room, he never could seem to bring himself to ask the questions that were inside his mind.

It helped that he hadn’t had any of his dreams since he’d woken up with Gabriel there. He didn’t know why, if he was just too tired or too injured to really dream at all, but he wasn’t going to question it. Sam wasn’t looking forward to the idea of what might happen if he had one while Gabriel was around. So far, he was pretty sure that the archangel didn’t have enough power back to just straight read his mind. If he did, he would’ve known already that something was going on, so Sam felt pretty safe in assuming that Gabriel couldn’t peek in his head yet. That had to mean that he couldn’t see dreams either, right? At least, that was what Sam hoped. He didn’t really want to put that to the test.

Of course, he should have known his reprieve wouldn’t last.

For the first time since he’d started having the dreams, one of them came to him out of order from the rest. It was further ahead in time from the last one, where they’d just found out they were pregnant. Later, Sam would wonder if it had something to do with being close to Gabriel, with the feel of his grace healing Sam’s body, or maybe with how broken down his body felt. Maybe these dreams were reacting like normal dreams; bringing up things that sort of matched what was going on with his life. He didn’t know. All he knew was that he didn’t dream of pregnancy that night, or birth, or anything like that. No, the dream Sam had was decades into the future – on the night of her death.

* * *

_It was no surprise when they came for her. She had known the risks in coming back here._

_Helping Loki to finally get free, aiding her family in their escape, was a choice that she knew she’d never regret. Sending them on while she went to gather things had been the right choice. She’d known the risks. Known walking in here what would happen. The visions had shown her that. Her sacrifice would keep them safe. It would enable them to get away. How could she do anything less?_

_They came as she was in the kitchen, seeking to ambush her, and to their surprise she was ready. The knife her husband had given her years ago sat at her hip and she drew it without hesitation. She fought them, all of them, with a snarl and a blade she knew damn well how to use no matter what they thought of her. They thought her weak; they thought her stupid. But she was neither._

_She slayed three before they managed to capture her. Still, she fought as they held her down and bound her with chains that kept her locked up tight without any way of breaking free. Right there on the floor of a house where she had lived, laughed, loved, they chained her down and broke her apart in ways she hadn’t even known were possible. They hurt her, breaking her, all the while shouting their questions and demanding their answers._

_She gave them nothing._

_They took everything she had from her. Her body, her beauty, her dignity, her immortality, but she wouldn’t give them the one thing they wanted – her heart. She would never give them_ him _. Not even when they slammed the blade down into her chest one last time._

_Her last thoughts were of a mischievous smirk and laughing amber eyes – and she smiled._

* * *

Bile was already rising from Sam’s throat as he woke. There was just enough time for him to launch for the edge of the before his stomach was forcefully ejecting everything inside of it. Somewhere nearby someone cried out “Woah!” and there were hands suddenly right there, _touching him_ , and Sam couldn’t separate them from the memories. He gave a sharp cry and tried to scramble away, only to wrap himself up tightly in his blankets and almost tumble down to the ground. He heard another surprised shout and saw a figure, one that he couldn’t make out through the haze – he wasn’t crying, dammit, he wasn’t! – over his eyes. All he knew was that he had to get away.

Sam barely remembered moving. Suddenly he was scrambling somehow and then he found himself in the corner of the room, between the dresser and the wall, and he was wrapped up tight with a blanket that smelled far too much like bile, only trapping him in the memories even more. She’d laid there, broken and bleeding in her own bile and blood, and they’d laughed at her. _Laughed._

There was a snap and suddenly the blankets were clean and the room smelled like a fresh field in spring. Sam only had a second to recognize that snap, his whole body responding immediately with a wave of longing and _No, sweet Odin, no, don’t let him be here, don’t let him come for me, I can’t let them hurt him I have to keep him safe, no, no, no!_

There was another sound, this one sharp and loud, and then a voice Sam would always know anywhere. “Back off!” Dean snapped out. Sam looked up, blinking his eyes to try and clear them, and he found his brother right there in front of him. Only, how could Dean be here? Because… because he didn’t know _her_. They’d never known each other. She had no brother. Yet he was here in front of Sam, and Sam knew him.

Everything in Sam’s head was a jumbled mess he couldn’t even begin to break free from. He had no idea how! Luckily for him, he had a brother who was well versed in how to break his little brother free from Cage-dreams, and while the situation was a bit different the theory was the same.

Dean squatted down near Sam’s little hiding spot but didn’t try to come forward into it. He stayed just a bit back; enough to leave a small escape route if Sam should need it. Then he smiled sadly at him. “Hey there, little brother. Quite a set of lungs you got going on. I heard you shout clear across the bunker.”

He’d shouted? When had he shouted? Sam didn’t remember. _He_ hadn’t made a noise, he thought. That had been all her… right?

Something of the panic he felt at that must’ve showed because his brother quickly set out to soothe him. “It’s okay. You’re all right, Sammy. You’re all right.” Dean’s voice was a low, soothing rumble, deep and steady, and Sam clung to it. He held on to the sound of that voice and let it draw him back down into his own body and out of his memories. When Dean tried to reach out for him, though, Sam flinched, and Dean drew his hand back without hesitation. “Okay. That’s okay, little brother. No one’s gonna touch you right now, I promise. No one.”

That was good. Sam didn’t want anyone touching him. He wanted… he wanted a shower. He wanted to be free. What they’d done to him, he could still feel it on his skin. Feel how they’d broken him.

Someone moved and Sam snuck a glance up, catching just a glimpse of dark hair and big blue eyes. Just enough to let him know who was there. Another face he recognized. Another one that belonged here, with Sam, not back there with _her_. The sight of it helped Sam to ground himself a little more and pull just the tiniest bit more out of his dreams.

“Stay back.” Castiel murmured to someone. And though Sam couldn’t see them, couldn’t see Castiel anymore as the ex-angel drew back, he knew the look that would be on Castiel’s face. The heartbroken expression that the angel hadn’t even known how to make until he’d spent time with them. It was something Sam hated. “He will not be able to handle the touch of your grace right now, brother.”

“What’s going on?” Another voice asked just as quietly. _Gabriel,_ Sam’s mind whispered. That was Gabriel. What was he doing here? He couldn’t… he couldn’t be there right then! He couldn’t! Panic roared to life inside of him and Sam’s whole body started to tremble.

The two angels didn’t see it. They were too busy in their own conversation. Sam heard as Castiel said, “Has no one caught you up on what’s happened since your death?” There was a brief pause in which Sam figured Gabriel made some head gesture, and then Castiel sighed. “The story is not mine to tell. At least, not all of it. It is rightfully theirs. You’ll need to ask them.”

The logical part of Sam’s brain was starting to realize what was going on. He knew that this had been another dream, knew that Castiel and Dean likely thought Sam was having a Cage dream, and he knew that what he’d actually felt in the dream was over. Logically, he knew all of that. Emotionally? All he could feel was panic. Gabriel couldn’t he here! If he was here, he wasn’t safe, and everything Sam had done had been to keep him safe.

 _Go, please go,_ Sam’s mind begged. He didn’t even realize it as the words started to slip past his lips, or as they came out not in English, but in very old Norse. “ _Go, please, please go. Don’t let them find you. Please, Kee, go. Please!_ ”

Caught up in himself, Sam missed what was going on in the room around him. He didn’t see the way that Gabriel went absolutely still with shock. He didn’t see how Dean looked back at them, or how Castiel turned a curious look to his brother. All of that passed in the blink of an eye. Then Sam suddenly found himself with Gabriel right there in front of him. There was a shout from Dean, a warning call from Castiel, but all Sam could see were Gabriel’s golden eyes glowing right there in front of him, holding him there. “ _What did you say?_ ” Gabriel asked in that same language.

Sam shuddered and his arms curled in around himself. He held on tighter, shaking his head desperately, yet he didn’t take his eyes off Gabriel’s face. “ _Please._ ” The words fell from his lips without any real thought. They were pulled from the part inside of him that was still stuck back there, still _her_. “ _You have to go before they come back._ ”

“ _Before who comes back?_ ”

But Sam shook his head again. He wasn’t going to tell him. He couldn’t! This was all… it was to keep Gabriel safe! Didn’t he see that? Sam kept shaking his head and he drew his knees up to his chest to make himself as small a target as possible. “ _You have to go, Kee. You have to. I can’t… I can’t…_ ” Words failed him and Sam buried his face against his knees to hide his sobs.

“That’s enough.” Dean snapped furiously. His voice was right there, right beside Sam, and he made it clear just how he felt when he stepped between Sam and Gabriel. Later, Sam would be embarrassed at how he leaned in to the back of his brother’s leg, hiding his face against his jeans like a small child. However, Dean just laid one hand on the top of Sam’s head and carefully held him there while he focused the rest of himself on Gabriel. “Whatever’s going on, you’re not gonna get answers outta him, not like this. Both of you, clear out and let me deal with my brother alone.”

To Sam’s surprise, there was no argument. Nothing except a snap that signified one angel leaving, and the soft footsteps from another.

Only when the door was shut did Dean turn himself around and squat back down by Sam. He didn’t ask questions, something which Sam was beyond grateful for. He just took one look and then assumed command as he’d done plenty of times after Sam’s nightmares. “All right, kid. We’re gonna get you up, get you in the shower, and then we’re gonna get you dressed in your warmest clothes before we head down to the kitchen for breakfast.”

This was a trick that Dean had learned once to help Sam find his balance again after a dream. Give him a list, a set of things they were going to do, and then follow it through perfectly. It gave Sam something to focus on. It helped him feel like the world was steadying underneath his feet once more.

With a shaky hand, Sam reached out for his brother and let Dean pull him to his feet.


	4. Chapter 4

By the time the two made it out of the shower and towards the kitchen, Sam was feeling a whole lot more like himself. Unfortunately, that left room for the worry and embarrassment to start to kick in. There was going to be no keeping things back from Gabriel anymore. They’d wanted to seek him out before for answers; it would seem that now was the time. Sam just wished it wasn’t under these kinds of circumstances. Or that he didn’t at least have _this_ running underneath his skin. It wasn’t going to go over well.

They went to the kitchen, just like Dean had said they would, and he made them both sandwiches. Their plates were carried out of there and towards the library.

Sam wasn’t surprised to find both Gabriel and Castiel waiting there for them. Nor was he surprised by the angry sort of impatience that was clearly written all over Gabriel’s body. He had himself kicked back in his chair, feet up and arms crossed over his chest, and his eyes were sharp on Sam the minute the hunter came into the room. Sam faltered a little, stumbling from one step to the next, but he righted himself easily and forced his shoulders back and his chin down. He wasn’t going to back down, yet he also didn’t want to antagonize. Quietly, he walked up to his seat, allowing his brother to take the one that put him between Sam and Gabriel.

An oppressive silence fell over the table. Sam looked down at his plate, avoiding the eyes of his brother, Castiel, and Gabriel, and he tried to put his head in order. There was no more running from this. It was time to face up to it all.

It was his memories of Sigyn that had Sam looking right at Gabriel and speaking with a bluntness he wouldn’t have used otherwise. Gabriel deserved the truth and Sam gave it to him. “For a few years now, I’ve been having strange dreams. I didn’t understand them at first. What they were, why I was having them – or why you kept appearing in them.”

Gabriel arched one eyebrow at that, yet said nothing. They all knew it was serious when the archangel didn’t even make a single quip about sex. Sam had deliberately left that open, hoping that Gabriel would make a joke that might bleed some of the tension from the room. When it didn’t work, he tried not to sigh. _There’s no backing out, now._

“These dreams, they’re not like regular dreams. They’re more like… like memories. But, they’re not mine.” Sam paused and licked his lips, eyes dropping down towards his still uneaten sandwich. “They’re – hers.”

There was a momentary pause in which Sam waited anxiously for what was going to happen next. There was a tension in the air that felt like it was slowly building. When the silence was finally broken, it was with words that were as sharp as the crack of a whip. “That’s impossible.” When Sam looked up, he found Gabriel _glaring_ at him. It had him wanting to cower back in his seat.

“Brother…” Slow, hesitant, Castiel reached out as if he would lay his hand on Gabriel’s arm, only to draw it back in when those furious eyes snapped to him. Still, Castiel met that gaze head on and spoke his words, soft and careful. “If he is dreaming the memories of another – it is entirely possible.”

“No, it’s not!” Gabriel snapped. He dropped his feet down to the ground and sat forward, his hands slapping down firmly onto the table so hard it shook. His eyes ran over them all and settled on Sam. “Because there’s only one person who _ever_ called me that, and there’s no way you could be dreaming about her.”

It broke Sam’s heart to hear the pain underneath Gabriel’s words. The way that his voice seemed to tremble ever so slightly on that last word. This – this was what Sam had been afraid of before. One of the things, at least. He’d been so afraid of how this was going to hurt Gabriel. Especially now, after _this_. There was no doubt in Sam’s mind just how much the two had loved one another. It was there in every single dream he’d had about them. Every dream, every memory, showed a love that Sam was envious of, and one that he had felt starting to seep into his day to day life until he was starting to worry about how to separate those emotions from his own. They were there now, making him ache to reach out and soothe the pain he could see on his – _not his! –_ the trickster’s face. Gabriel was hurting because of this, because of Sam, and he hated it.

No one else seemed to be feeling as worried as Sam was, though. Dean was sitting forward now as well and was glaring back just as hard. “Why not?”

Gabriel practically snarled at him. “Because she was a goddess, you idiot. She wasn’t human. There was no human soul to get reborn!”

The words came out before he could even think to stop them. “Yes there was.”

Sam’s soft voice broke through their argument and had them both spinning to look at him. The open fury on Gabriel’s face was enough to have Sam wanting to take a step back. Surprisingly, it was the memories of Loki, the things that Sam had seen in his dreams, that had him standing his ground even as the archangel leaned forward. “What are you talking about?” He demanded in a low growl that was full of threat and warning both. It was a tone that clearly said ‘tread lightly here’.

“She was human when…she died.” There was a brief hesitation just before that second ‘she’ that every one of them heard. A moment where Sam almost used an entirely different pronoun. He tried to brush quickly past it, swallowing down the lump in his throat that came from thinking of this, from the echo of emotions that washed up in him. “Before she, before she died, someone took her immortality from her. Took what made her a goddess.”

“Is that even possible?” Dean asked.

Gabriel didn’t look away from Sam. “How?”

On legs that didn’t feel entirely steady, Sam pushed himself up from his chair and made his way over to a shelf that carried one of his many notebooks. He pulled one out and flipped it to a blank page. His stomach clenched as he forced himself to think, to remember. Other memories pushed in and he had to force them back so he could focus only on what he needed here. Then he quickly sketched something out. Once he was done, he pulled the paper out and closed the notebook. He carried that single piece of paper back over to Gabriel and held it out with one hand. On it was a drawing of the blade they’d used. He’d made sure to get every sigil he could see. Below it was what he remembered of the spell. “I didn’t catch all the spell parts. There was more, but…” But it’d been hard to focus. Hard to think beyond the pain.

If at all possible, Gabriel seemed to grow even more furious. His hand actually shook as it held that piece of paper as delicately as if it were going to fall to pieces on him. The air around them began to crackle with his power. “What did they do to her?”

Though he knew it would piss Gabriel off, Sam shook his head. “I can’t tell you.”

It wasn’t that surprising when he went flying back to crash into the wall. Loud shouts sounded nearby and Sam knew his brother and Castiel had risen, yet he only had eyes for the god/archangel that was stalking towards him. “You would dare?” Gabriel hissed at him. “She was my _wife_. You’ve got no right keeping this from me!”

Sam didn’t back down. He couldn’t. No matter what Gabriel said or did, there was no way Sam could give him this. “She didn’t want you to know.” He said softly. His eyes stayed on Gabriel – on Loki, really, because this was pure pissed off pagan right now. “It was the only thing that gave her comfort in the end. The knowledge that you’d never know what they did to her. That you weren’t there and you couldn’t… you couldn’t see…” A shiver ran down Sam and he had to fight not to close his eyes, to keep his voice and his gaze steady. “It was one of the very last things she thought of, how happy she was you’d never have to see this, never have to know. I won’t take that from her.”

The force holding Sam against the wall let go of him abruptly. He started to slide down, not even halfway to the ground before Gabriel was gone.

Sam hit the floor and sat there, staring at the open space in front of him while Dean and Castiel raced up to him. He kept staring as the two gathered on either side of him, their hands bracing him up while Dean checked Sam over for any injuries. When he was sure his brother wasn’t hurt, he kept one hand on Sam’s shoulder and snapped his gaze up to Castiel. “What the hell was that?”

“These dreams Sam is having, they’re of a woman.”

Castiel said it like a statement, but Sam gave a small nod. “Sigyn.” He said her name softly. “Her name’s Sigyn.”

Out of the corner of his eye he saw Castiel nod. “Yes. If… if what you dreamed is correct, then it is likely that Sigyn was turned human. Once human, her soul would’ve had a chance to pass on to the afterlife, or be reborn again.”

That took a moment to sink in with the brothers. “Reincarnation?” Dean said the word incredulously. Then it all seemed to click for him, the same as it was clicking for Sam, and he swore. “You’re telling me that Sam’s, what? The reincarnated soul of Gabriel’s dead wife?”

Whereas Dean seemed to be going to his standard shocked or pissed off with big news, especially news that concerned his brother, for Sam there was a feeling of _rightness_ that settled over him. A sensation inside of him that seemed to be saying ‘Oh, yes, this, of course, it all makes sense now.’ These dreams, they weren’t dreams, they really were memories. _His_ memories. That made it all that more _real_ to him, and all that more painful.

Whatever else they said after that was lost on Sam. He closed his eyes and slumped back against the bookcase, aching with every single part of him. He ached for Castiel and Dean and what this was going to mean for their family. He ached for Gabriel, and all the pain he must be feeling right now. Deep inside, Sam ached for what all that had happened. But most of all, his heart ached for all the things that might have been, if only a group of the worst kinds of monsters hadn’t destroyed everything – the kind of monsters that hid underneath the masks of _friends_ , right up until the moment they’d torn everything apart.

Shaking, and suddenly exhausted, Sam leaned over just enough to let his head rest on his brother’s shoulder and he took the only comfort he could. Even if it wasn’t quite the comfort that he wanted right then, he’d take what he could get.


	5. Chapter 5

They didn’t see Gabriel again for a full week. Sam couldn’t say he was honestly all that surprised. What else did they expect him to do? Just smile and say ‘Oh, yes, all right then’ and be okay with things? Honestly, out of all the reactions that Gabriel could’ve given, this was way down there on the scale of trouble.

Dean didn’t seem to agree. He was a bit furious about it, to which Sam wasn’t really all that surprised. Somehow Dean seemed to blame Gabriel for the whole mess, even if that made no sense at all. Castiel was the one to point out to him that it couldn’t have been Gabriel’s fault. “Gabriel wasn’t even aware of the nature of his wife’s death, nor that she had been turned human. A goddess would not have been capable of reincarnation. Their essence would’ve simply returned to the Earth, or passed into the Heaven or Hell of their beliefs.”

“If they were so close, how come he couldn’t just look at Sam and recognize her?”

“Because he’s never seen her soul.” Sam said softly. He curled his hands around the half full mug of coffee that he held and drew it up, though he didn’t take a drink. Mostly, he was cradling it for warmth. His hands were still trying to shake the slightest bit and the heat helped. The coffee also gave him something to look at so he could avoid looking at his brother’s face. “Like Cas said, he didn’t know she was turned human, so he never would’ve seen her soul. He’d have no idea what it looked like.”

“Well he’s seen it now.” Dean pointed out. “So why the hell’d he run?”

The looks that Sam and Castiel gave him made it clear they didn’t believe he was that stupid. “Tell me, Dean, if you lived long past Sam’s lifetime and then you one day discovered that this person was the reincarnated soul of your brother, carrying the memories from him and yet not knowing you at all, how would you react?”

Castiel’s words were enough to silence Dean. He didn’t bring it up again.

Though Gabriel was gone, it wasn’t as if he went off and sat idly brooding while they were left to keep working alone. Gabriel might not have been with them anymore, but it didn’t mean that he wasn’t still out helping the angels. Being as he was resurrected right as the angels fell, he was the only one out there with wings at the moment, and he was using those wings quite a bit. Reports were cropping up all over the place of Gabriel appearing here or there to help out various groups of angels or to take down different factions that were trying to build up. Sam and Dean, with Castiel’s help, were piecing together a rather daunting looking image of angelic possessions and angels fighting. There were factions trying to build, brother fighting brother, and Sam hated to see how much it hurt Castiel to hear it each time. The seraph’s guilt was eating away at him.

On top of all that, being up and about meant that Sam got to see a whole lot more than he’d noticed before. Things that he hadn’t really been clued in on while he’d been healing in bed. Like the fact that they had the King of Hell in their dungeon, or how Kevin had started to lock himself away in his room because he was furious they had Crowley and hadn’t killed him yet.

“He’s been working on trying to find something on the tablets to see if he can reverse the spell.” Dean told Sam when they passed by the prophet’s room. There was a tray of dirty dishes there that Dean picked up to take with them to the kitchen. “He doesn’t really wanna be bugged so long as we still got Crowley here.”

“Can you blame him?”

Dean shrugged one shoulder. “You do what you gotta do, Sammy. The limey bastard is locked up tight down in the dungeon, shackled and everything. Gabe even checked it over and made sure he wouldn’t be able to pull a fast one and slip out somehow. He’s not gonna be causing any trouble. Why shouldn’t we use him for information?”

There was truth to those words, yet they had Sam shaking his head. “Our lives are weird, man.”

Casting a wry look at his brother, Dean snorted. “Says the dude dreaming of his past life – as a _chick_.”

And here came the jokes that Sam had known would come. Hopefully Dean would at least have the tact not to say them when Gabriel came back. _If_ Gabriel came back. “Bite me, Dean.”

“Aren’t you two just adorable?”

Though Dean started cursing, Sam just looked up as they rounded the corner and found someone waiting for them atop the long library table. Well, that answered the question of whether or not Gabriel was going to come back. He sat cross-legged on the table with a smirk on his lips and an amused expression on his face. Seeing him, Sam’s heart leapt in his chest and his stomach clenched. Against his will, one hand started to rise, only for him to ruthlessly bring it back down to his side. He stuffed it into his pocket and fought to keep it there. Just because Gabriel knew now didn’t mean that Sam was free to take liberties. _He was her husband, not yours. Keep your hands to yourself!_

It was something that Sam was fighting more and more to remind himself. The memories these dreams gave him were starting to seep into his day to day life and it was getting hard to separate them from his own memories.

When Sam cleared his head he found Gabriel watching him. There was a look in his eyes that made the hunter want to blush a bit. Gabriel had never looked at _him_ like that before. _He’s not looking at me like that now,_ Sam thought, hating it for the truth it was. _He’s looking at_ her _like that, not me._

That hurt so much more than he’d thought.

Honestly, what had he expected, though? Gabriel had only barely liked him before. He’d tried to help, sure, Sam could see that now with time and distance, but it had been to stop the apocalypse. What little bit of friendship they might’ve had, what could’ve happened, had been lost when the archangel died, and it certainly hadn’t been enough to inspire this kind of look. No, this look was all for Sigyn.

A little furrow appeared between Gabriel’s brows. He tilted his head to better look at Sam with a look so intent it had Sam turning his eyes away. That was when Sam realized that Dean wasn’t beside him anymore. His brother had actually gone ahead and left him here. Which meant that Sam had just been standing here like an idiot, staring at Gabriel. Was it any wonder that the archangel was watching him with concern?

Instead of making him feel better, though, that concern only made him feel worse.

“Sambo?”

Sam closed his eyes and shuddered lightly at the concern in that voice. He wanted to respond to it, to reach out for a touch his heart said would be there, but he couldn’t. He couldn’t, and it hurt so damn much. Keeping his eyes shut, Sam shook his head and whispered a soft “Don’t.”

There was a breath pause in which he heard Gabriel’s clothes rustle while he shifted. “Don’t what?”

“Don’t be nice to me.” Sam said. He opened his eyes and saw Gabriel’s surprised look and sighed, one hand coming up to push his hair back from his face. It fell right back as soon as he let go.

The archangel watched him carefully for a moment as if waiting for Sam to say more. Maybe explain himself somehow. When it quickly became apparent that he wasn’t going to, Gabriel let out a low whistle and shook his head. “Gee, kiddo, nice to know what you think of me.” His eyes flashed with something just a bit darker that Sam recognized, even if he wished he didn’t. Hurt.

Something about that hurt that he saw put Sam’s back up. What right did Gabriel have to stand there and be hurt by this? He wasn’t the one who was stuck dealing with all of this. Yeah, sure, he had his own hell to deal with here, his own pain, but that didn’t give him the right to ignore Sam’s. Before he could stop himself, Sam was glaring up at Gabriel and snapping out “Don’t give me that. We both know exactly what you think of me, and nice doesn’t enter anywhere into it.”

“Now wait just a damn minute.” The hurt in Gabriel’s eyes was being replaced by a temper that matched Sam’s. He sat up and glared right back at the hunter.

Sam never gave him the chance to speak. For quite a while now it felt like he’d been controlling everything that he felt, keeping his emotions on the inside as he tried to figure out what was going on. His problems had taken a back seat over and over again because there was always something else going on. Something bigger and worse than what Sam was going through. What right did he have to complain about that? Even these dreams, these strange things that were taking over his life, what right did he have to complain about it to Gabriel? Sure, he got the memories here, and he was relieving a life that wasn’t his, but Gabriel was forced to look at someone who was his wife and yet _not_.

But couldn’t people at least grant him some common courtesy? Was it really too much to ask that they respect his feelings here, at least a little?

All that pain and resentment bubbled up in Sam until it finally spilled out all over Gabriel. “No,” He snapped. He took a step forward, spine straightening, and his features hardened into a furious look that Gabriel hadn’t seen turned his way in a long time. “You’re the one who can wait a damn minute. You know, I’ve done absolutely everything in my power to try and make this as easy as possible for you. I’ve tried to answer what questions I can, I’ve tried not to push things off on you. I’ve done my best to be considerate, and it’s the least you can do to try and give me the same courtesy!”

“What the hell are you talking about?”

“Have you stopped and thought for _one freaking second_ what this has to be like for me?” Sam snapped. “I feel like I’m going crazy! _Again_! At least last time I knew it was Lucifer. I could see him and at least know he wasn’t real, even if it was hard to remember sometimes. This time I’ve apparently got a dead woman inside my head who is somehow supposed to be a part of me. But does anyone give a damn about my half of things?” He let out a snarl as he shoved away from the stunned looking archangel. Pacing away, Sam tried to keep from screaming, tried to keep his voice a little bit even as he twisted back to point a finger right at Gabriel. “Do you have any idea how it feels to live with two people inside your head? To have this whole other life coming to you in your dreams, making you relieve it all. To have all these feelings that weren’t there before. And then, _then_ you come back and it’s just, it’s so much better and so much worse. Because I like you, Gabriel. _Both_ parts of me do.”

Gabriel looked like he’d been slapped in the face. It was an expression that Sam might’ve enjoyed at any other time. Right then, he didn’t care. He watched as Gabriel opened his mouth to speak, shut it, and then opened it again. “I like you too, Sam.”

A bitter chuckle slipped past Sam’s lips. “Do you? Do you really like me? Or do you like me because I’m as close as you can get to her?”

Without another word, Sam spun around and walked out of the room.

* * *

From his spot against the far wall, Dean watched as Gabriel just gaped after Sam, completely and utterly floored by the explosion that he’d just witnessed. It was a side of Sam that not many people got to see. Sure, the kid had a temper on him, and he fought like hell if he felt like his back was up against a wall or if someone was pissing him off, but only with their Dad had Sam ever tried to fight for himself. Since then, since Sam had run off, he didn’t often stand up for himself. He’d tried some, their first year back together, and then there’d been Hell, and Ruby, and little by little Sam had sort of stopped standing up for himself. Dean hated to see it. He really, really hated it. Sam had done it so rarely before and only with family. Now? Now he just took everyone’s shit when it came to him. The only time he fought was in defense of someone else.

But Gabriel had just gotten a glimpse of a Sam who had been pushed too far and who was finally, _finally_ , trying to stand up for himself.

Dean wanted to go and find his brother. Try and make him feel better. Because he knew the amount of pain Sam had to have been in for him to finally speak up for himself there. It had to have pushed him far for him to finally say something. That meant the kid was really, really hurting. Every part of Dean demanded that he go and find some way to try and make that better.

However, before he did that, he had something else he wanted to do.

He pushed himself off the wall where he’d been watching the whole argument and let his boots clunk on the ground as he made his way up to where Gabriel was still sitting, shell-shocked. Gabriel’s eyes flashed up to him and there was a hint of a wince at the edges that made Dean want to smirk. Yeah. It might have been a long time since he’d stepped up to the plate to defend his brother, and that was his bad, but it felt good to know that someone recognized that messing with Dean Winchester’s little brother was still a huge freaking mistake.

When Dean didn’t say anything, just came to a stop at the table and stared at him, Gabriel shifted uncomfortably. Years of dealing with Sam had taught Dean quite a few ways to get his point across. He had a feeling that yelling at Gabriel wasn’t going to work. It hadn’t worked in the past. So he’d try something that always worked to get Sam talking with him.

Silence.

It was kind of amusing to see how quickly an _archangel_ folded under it. Though, Dean could admit it was likely the fact that he was still reeling from Sam’s words that made this all so easy.

Gabriel slumped a little in his chair and looked back in the direction that Sam had gone. “Is that seriously what he thinks?”

“It’s not like you’ve ever really showed that you like Sam before.” Dean pointed out.

Bright eyes snapped towards him. “I tried to help you bozos!”

“You tortured him.” Dean said flatly. These were words he’d wanted to say for a long time and it felt good to get them out. Because as much as Gabriel might think he’d helped, Dean knew better, and there was a huge part of him that still wanted to rip the bastard apart for this. “I still can’t put on Asia without him freaking out. He woke up to it once in the car and had a panic attack that ended up with him throwing up on Baby’s floorboards. Maybe to you that was helping, but to Sammy it was torture, even if he says he understands the lesson now.”

Gabriel winced and dropped his gaze down.

Dean wasn’t done, though. He crossed his arms over his chest and looked down at the top of Gabriel’s head. As much as he wanted to keep kicking the guy while he was down, really let him know how he felt, Dean also knew that it wouldn’t do any good for Sam. Much as Dean hated the idea of it, he wasn’t stupid enough to think that Sam wasn’t going to want Gabriel to stick around after this. He hadn’t been lying when he’d said that both parts of him liked Gabriel. No matter how pissed off he was right now, he was still going to want him around, and he’d be livid if Dean chased him away. Plus, they needed the little shit’s help with the angels.

That meant that the hunter had to be careful about this. Keeping Gabriel around might be important, but if he was gonna stick around, some things were going to have to change.

“He’s always liked you more than I have.” Dean said, making his voice just a bit gentler than before. There was a bitter edge to his words, though, that made it clear he wasn’t happy. Especially as he said the next part. “I tend to have issue with people who fuck with my brother. But he’s forgiven you for it all even if I think he shouldn’t.”

“Don’t sugarcoat it, Deano.” Gabriel said wryly.

Dean flashed him a sharp smirk. “Fine, I won’t.” Dropping his arms from his chest, he pointed a finger at Gabriel. “You’ve screwed with Sammy the whole time you’ve known him. The kid likes you, but he never had a damn clue you did more than tolerated him. You or any other angel that treated him like dog shit on their freaking shoes each time they saw him. But now all of a sudden you find out he’s the reincarnation of your dead wife and you show back up here after your tantrum full of smiles and stupid shit. Of course he’s gonna think you don’t give a damn about him. If you wanna convince him otherwise, prove it. Show him it’s not just this chick you care about. Show him that someone, for once, gives a damn about _him_.”

This time it was Dean who turned around and walked away.


	6. Chapter 6

It didn’t take Sam long to feel guilty about blowing up at Gabriel. This had to be a whole lot harder on him than it was on Sam. The young hunter had no idea what he’d do if he had to face something like that. Would he have reacted any better if he were in Gabriel’s shoes? If, say, someone came up to him and explained that they were dreaming about his life with Jess, and he found out this person, this guy even, was really Jess’s soul reborn, Sam honestly couldn’t say that he knew how he’d react.

Worrying about it made Sam nervous and edgy for the next two days. He tried to channel all that energy into researching Abaddon. While Gabriel had been helping with the other angels, they hadn’t done anything about Abaddon yet, at least from Sam’s understanding. Dean had said she’d been hiding. So that meant that they needed to figure out some sort of way to stop her and Sam wasn’t all too keen on trying to ask Gabriel to help them after recent events.

Turned out, he didn’t have to.

As Sam turned the page on the book he was reading all about the Knights of Hell, he heard a whisper of movement and then Gabriel’s voice, right beside him, as the archangel dropped himself down into a chair near Sam’s side. “I wouldn’t worry about hunting her, Samoose. I already took care of that little problem.”

Sam’s head snapped up and his eyes sought out Gabriel’s, trying to read them. “She’s dead?”

The grin he got was purely trickster and was packed with enough malice to make anyone want to shiver. “As a doornail.”

Some of the weight on Sam’s shoulders fell away at that. Their list of things to do felt so insurmountable lately, having one thing taken off, especially something as big as her, was a giant relief. Despite everything still between him and Gabriel at the moment, he couldn’t help but smile at him. “Thank you, Gabriel. Thank you.”

Gabriel shrugged ne shoulder and leaned back in his chair, drawing himself back just the slightest bit from Sam. He acted like it was no big deal, like he hadn’t done anything big at all and couldn’t understand why Sam was making such a fuss over it. “Meh. I was bored and I need to take out my aggression somewhere.”

Unable to help himself, Sam winced. He dropped his eyes down to his book and carefully closed it. “Gabriel, I…”

“Nope!” Gabriel held a hand up and cut him off before he could even get going. There was a smile on his lips that was more trickster than archangel; it was a hint of the person he’d once been, with a dash of that cynical being that Sam and Dean had first met. A curious mixture that both parts of Sam seemed to enjoy. Of course, that enjoyment was offset by worry when he saw the serious light in Gabriel’s eyes, or the way he was actually looking right at Sam. “You had your chance to talk, kiddo. Now it’s my turn.”

Oh, boy. That didn’t make Sam relax _at all._ He watched Gabriel cautiously, trying to read anything that he could on his face.

Sam wasn’t the least bit prepared when Gabriel opened his mouth and said “You were right.” At Sam’s stunned look, he chuckled with honest humor. “Yeah, yeah, don’t get used to hearing it, pretty boy. But this _one time_ I can admit you were right. I wasn’t thinking about your side of this.”

“Of course you weren’t, and it wasn’t fair of me to expect you to.” Sam interjected.

The smile on Gabriel’s face softened just a little. “Quit being so nice, kiddo. You had every right to be pissed off. I can’t make any promises about my behavior in the future, but I’ll do my damndest to remember that you’re not her, all right?” He waited, watching Sam, until he got a nod. Then his grin grew. “All right. Good. But if you want me to treat you like _you_ , you’re gonna have to actually talk with me, you realize that, right?”

Laughter bubbled up Sam’s throat. He felt so much relief; he hadn’t wanted to fight with the archangel. It felt wrong on too many levels. Having this cleared up, it felt good. Really good. “Yeah, Gabriel.”

The archangel winked at him. “Just making sure.”

Sam took a second to study Gabriel’s face. Gabriel was being startlingly open with him right now. Apologizing, offering a compromise, even talking about future conversations like somehow he expected them to be friends, real friends. And maybe it was because Sam was Sigyn, or maybe he was really trying, Sam didn’t know. What he did know was that there was something he really should do if they were going to do this right.

Before he could talk himself out of it, he got up and walked over to the little drawer where he kept his notebooks. He hesitated only briefly before pulling them out. When he turned back around, he found Gabriel watching him. Sam walked right up to him and set the notebooks down on the table in front of him. Nervous, he pressed his palms down on the top of them. Hopefully he was doing the right thing here. “If we’re going to do this, we should probably do it right.” Sam drew in a shaky breath and then straightened up, drawing one hand back and using the other to tap the stack of notebooks. “I’ve recorded every dream I’ve had, all except for one.” There was no way he was going to write down her death. He just, he couldn’t bring himself to do it. Sam saw Gabriel’s eyes go wide, saw the way they flashed down to the books, and he knew he was doing the right thing. Gabriel had the right to know. “In these is everything that I know. That I’ve… remembered. If we’re going to try and at least be friends, you deserve to know what I know.”

The way that Gabriel looked at those notebooks was like someone looking at the holy grail. He reached out slowly, hesitantly, and when Sam didn’t stop him, he took hold of them and pulled them towards him, hugging them to his chest. There was honest gratitude in Gabriel’s face as he looked up at the hunter. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” Sam gave him a soft smile in return. “I’ve taken to keeping a notebook by my bed and I write in it when I first wake up. It helps me kind of keep it all separate in my head. Soon as I finish one, I’ll bring it out and leave it in that drawer over there. Usually it takes me about, a week. You’re welcome to read them as I bring them out.”

It didn’t seem possible, yet Gabriel’s smile grew even more. “Thank you.” He said again.

With another smile and one last nod, Sam turned and left Gabriel to his notebooks, granting him privacy to go through them.

In the meantime, Sam was going to go and let Dean know that Abaddon was dead. One less problem on their list of shit to handle.

* * *

That night the group had a celebration dinner in the bunker. Killing Abaddon was worth one hell of a celebration, at least according to Dean, and he was in a good enough mood from it that he didn’t even flinch over inviting not just Castiel, but Gabriel to their dinner as well.

Sam had to admit, he had a lot of fun with it. Some of the tension he’d been carrying faded away as he hung out with his brother in the kitchen. While Sam made a potato salad to stick in the fridge, Dean set about getting the rest of his kitchen organized to his preferences, and squawking over things that he found in the cupboard. Apparently Gabriel had taken to just snapping in random groceries. Sam got to see a side of his brother in there he hadn’t known existed. He’d learned more and more that Dean liked to cook, he just hadn’t realized how good he was at it. He knew the names of spices that Sam had never even heard of before.

“I did a hunt with Dracen Wilks once. You remember him?” Dean asked. At Sam’s nod, he went on, most of his focus on rearranging the spice cupboard in front of him. “Dad was off hunting a werewolf or something like that, so he left me with Drace for like, a month. You were out at Bobby’s, sick as shit and pissed off you couldn’t come with me.”

Sam looked up from the bowl he was stirring to scowl over at his brother. “I wasn’t that sick!”

The look Dean threw at him over his shoulder could only be called fond. It warmed Sam’s insides to see it there. “Dude, you were barfing like the exorcist and Bobby had to put plastics sheets on the bed for you to sleep. You were sick.”

Heat filled Sam’s cheeks. The truth of the words didn’t matter; did Dean really have to go and say it all out loud like that? No one needed to hear that! It was embarrassing! Having Dean know was one thing. His big brother knew pretty much all the bad stuff about Sam, especially if it happened when Sam was younger. But Sam didn’t need Gabriel or Castiel hearing him.

Oblivious to Sam’s embarrassment, or enjoying it, Dean turned back to the spices. “Anyways. Drace was surprised I didn’t know how to cook anything. He said his Mom had been a chef and she’d made sure all her kids knew how to cook. So, while I was there, that was the chores he made me do. I had to cook all our meals while he showed me how, until I did it good enough for him.” One side of Dean’s mouth quirked up in a smile that held a hint of fondness for those memories. “Good times, man. Good times.”

By the time Sam had his potato salad chilling in the fridge, and the dishes clean, Dean was just starting to gather up the stuff for burgers. They made their way outside to the little barbeque pit they’d found not long after they’d moved in. Castiel and Gabriel were already there, the barbeque lit and ready to go, and a huge bonfire lit. The sight of the bonfire made Sam grin. Though fire had been such a catalyst for their lives, something that had haunted them in so many ways, there was always going to be something soothing for Sam about bonfires like this. They reminded him of camping with his brother, the two of them sitting by the fire together and telling stories. Of times when John had been a bit more relaxed than normal, and he’d taught the boys how to make smores and to tell the kind of ghost stories that scared others but made them laugh. It also reminded him of Jess, of nights him and his Stanford friends went down to the beach and lit a bonfire and laughed and drank. And also, in the very back of Sam’s mind rose up new memories, older ones, of times that he’d sat by a fire with an older man with silver hair, how _she’d_ curled up against his leg while he stroked her hair and told her stories of the stars.

Sam tilted his face up towards the slowly darkening sky, the hints of dusk just catching in the air, and let that last memory drift over him, not even noticing the others around him anymore. This was the first time a memory had come to him while he was awake, and it didn’t involve Loki at all. Closing his eyes, Sam let it wash over him.

 _It felt so good to sit here. The fire was warm and the night air felt good against her skin. She didn’t want to move, because she knew if she did then Father would lift her and carry her back to her pelts to sleep. She didn’t want to sleep there. She wanted to stay here with him and Mother and listen to their stories. They always told the_ best _stories._

_The soft, slender hand of her mother stroked over her hair, pushing curls back from her face, and she could feel her father’s chuckle vibrate through his leg. “Let her be, my love.”_

_“She should be in bed.”_

_Though she couldn’t see it, she could hear her father smiling. His hand came down to curl over her neck and shoulder, wide and heavy, yet safe. “Let her be. The fire will keep her warm enough.”_

_Her mother laughed. The sound was soft and musical and made anyone who was listening smile. Then she joined them, leaning against Father, and Sam felt her weight snuggling up behind her. With the light of the fire dancing in front of her and her family around her, she felt at peace._

When Sam opened his eyes he found Dean watching him sideways, Castiel sitting down on a log looking rather awkward, and Gabriel at his side. Castiel was watching the fire, but Gabriel was watching Sam. It was easy for Sam to smile over at him in what he hoped was a reassuring way. This memory, it didn’t hurt, at least not in a bad way. It made his heart ache for something lost so long ago. But it was also something that he knew that he – that _Sigyn_ – treasured.

God, it was so weird to think of those things that were hers as _his_. Even though Gabriel and Castiel had confirmed that Sam’s soul was Sigyn, reborn, he couldn’t quite come to terms with it. It felt so strange. Almost like there was someone else that was living there inside of him. Like he was sharing space with a whole other person. Thinking that had chills running down Sam’s spine that had nothing to do with the cool night air.

A hand clapped on his shoulder and gave a firm, supportive squeeze. Sam looked over to find his brother smiling at him and giving him that look of his that let him know that everything was okay while also checking in to make sure he was really all right. No one could do that look quite like Dean. Somehow he managed it perfectly, and he always seemed to know when Sam needed it. When he needed that reminder that he was all right. Dean just seemed to know when Sam started to struggle a little.

When Sam finally settled down by the fire with the two angels, he was still smiling a little.

Gabriel didn’t press Sam on what he had seen, though it was likely he knew that Sam had seen something. He just smiled back at him and offered him one of the mugs in his hand. Sam accepted it after only a brief hesitation. When he drew the cup up to his face, he couldn’t stop himself from making a low happy sound. Hot apple cider was in there. It was one of his favorite cold-day drinks that wasn’t coffee.

The smell of burgers cooking filled the air, mixing in with the pleasant scent of the fire, and Dean’s sudden speech on how to _properly_ cook a burger only served to make Sam smile.

A month ago, Sam had been so sure that he was going to die. He’d been certain of it. Now he was here, staring at the fire while his brother and a pagan-god-turned-archangel argued over what kind of seasonings to put into a burger, and freshly-human Castiel sat and watched it all with a faint smile of amusement touching his lips.

They still had so much to deal with, Sam knew. The angels were still on earth, the King of Hell was in their dungeon, their prophet was hiding out in his room still, and the Gates of Hell were still open. Yet, for the moment, as he watched this little group around him, his little family, Sam felt peace.


End file.
